Repercussion
by elodealeaf
Summary: The wardrobe didn't work, at least not the way the Blue Fairy planned. Emma, sent twenty years into the past, encounters Regina before she truly becomes the Evil Queen.
1. Chapter 1

Drops of rainwater trickled down the side of the portcullis, coalescing into a miniature waterfall that pooled onto cobblestone streets below. Emma eyed the muddy road with a mixture of emotions; if it were any other day she would have welcomed the precipitation, but the weather had taken a drastic change from the warmth of late summer, and now as the rain melted into her tunic she only felt the bitter sting of autumn. She hastened her step, hoping to reach the dryness of the keep before the rain grew heavier.

Despite the unpleasant weather, the courtyard was unusually busy. As she weaved her way into the crowd, she noticed a peculiarity; though the market was packed, very few people were actually buying from the vendors. Instead, the people were clustered in groups, talking animatedly.

"…I heard she was there, waiting for him, a knife in her hand!"

"…almost killed him, too, but the guards stopped her just in time."

Who was where, and why was there a knife? Emma spun around, hoping to find the source of the voice, but the task proved impossible. She wanted to figure out what was going on, but she was quickly running out of time. Nathan would be upset if she showed up late again. She rushed past the rest of the crowd, trying her best to not let her curiosity get the best of her. If she became desperate to find out what was going on, she could always ask the other servants. They weren't exactly friendly toward her, but she was certain they would answer her question, if nothing else to get her to leave them alone.

After being outside in the cool drizzle, the heat of the kitchen felt suffocating. She quickly removed her damp tunic and made her way further into the room. Nathan was pulling a loaf of bread out of the oven, and when he spotted Emma, the corner of his mouth curled into a small smile. He was one of the few servants that didn't mind her presence, although there were times he was just as bad as the rest of the workers.

She returned the smile and gave him a quick wave. He gestured to the tray of food on the counter behind him. "That's for you to deliver whenever you're ready." Emma grabbed an apple from beside the cook and settled onto a stool opposite Nathan. As she bit into the fruit, she cast a quick glance at the tray in front of her.

It took her a moment to realize what was missing. "To her highness? But it doesn't have her tea on it." The princess had tea with her breakfast each morning, and Emma would be remiss if she didn't say anything. She looked up to Nathan, concerned that he could have forgotten something so important.

Nathan's lips narrowed to a thin line. Emma shifted in her seat, uncomfortable that she had just worn down Nathan's patience. "No, not the princess. Rose is taking care of that today. She left just a few minutes ago."

"What? I wasn't late! I haven't done anything wrong, have I?" She had only served the princess her breakfast for a few weeks; she hoped that she hadn't done so poorly that the princess requested a new servant.

"No, you haven't done anything. I have another job for you."

Emma bit her lip. Nathan seemed genuine enough, but it was hard to tell with him. She was normally good at reading people, but moments before he had been annoyed at her. In the end, her curiosity won out. "What is it?"

He gestured to the tray. "I want you to deliver this to the dungeon."

"There's a prisoner?" Emma thought back to the teeming streets and the idle gossip she had overheard. "What's going on? When did this happen?"

"You haven't heard?" Nathan at least had the decency to act surprised. Emma was still young enough to live in the orphanage on the outskirts of the city. The decrepit building was so far removed from the rest of city life that Emma oftentimes found herself unaware of even the most important news. "The king found an intruder in his treasury last night."

Emma hazarded a guess. "With a knife?"

"Yes!" Nathan tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. "You said you didn't know."

Emma shook her head. "No, sorry. It was something I heard; I was just guessing. Please, continue."

"Well, she was trying to kill the king!" A pause for dramatic effect. Emma took the bait, gasping in surprise. "She somehow knew that he would be in the treasury. "

"The king, is he…" she trailed off, the unsaid word leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.

"No, his majesty is just fine. Not even a scratch. King Geoffrey is quite lucky that he had his guards with him. I heard she barely put up a fight." Nathan pushed the food towards her. "Now off you go." With a sneer, he added, "wouldn't want the prisoner to starve, now would we."

Emma slid off her stool. "No, I guess not." She reached for the tray, sliding it across the wooden countertop. "What's going to happen to her, do you think?"

She lingered, waiting for a response, but Nathan had already turned back to the oven.

Prior to her promotion, Emma had been the one to constantly trek down to the dungeons and serve the guards their food. It wasn't as if the guards couldn't take shifts and eat in the great hall with everyone else, but the number of jobs an orphan could do were limited, and in an attempt to lower the crime rate in the city, one of the king's advisors had suggested the orphans be placed in menial jobs to keep them busy and off the streets. Emma couldn't remember the exact wording, but in the end it meant that she had a somewhat stable job and the possibility of having a real home one day.

The journey to the dungeons was unnecessarily long, and as Emma walked through the castle she felt the chill of the cold weather seeping into the dark stone of the castle. By the time she wound her way down into the wet, dark dungeon her arms ached from the exertion of carrying the tray.

Two guards were crowded around the lone table just outside the dungeon, playing a card game. A third guard was standing at attention by the door to the cells; he was the first one to notice her.

"Welcome back," he said, moving away from his post as she set the tray down. "Things didn't go well with the princess?" She didn't recognize the guard, but that was to be expected. With their masks on, they all looked the same.

Emma gave a soft shrug. "I'm just doing this today, I think, for Rose." One of the men reached for the fourth serving of food. "That's for the prisoner. Could you please make sure she gets it?"

The change in the room was instantaneous. Emma pulled her clothing tighter around her, hoping to stave off the chill that seemed suffocating. The first guard pulled back from his food, his posture rigid.

"I'm not going in there. You can take it to her yourself."

One of the other men laughed, but it sounded forced. "What Merek, afraid of a woman?"

Merek glared at him. "If you're so brave, why don't you go in there?" The other guard was silent, just as unwilling as first. The three of them looked back at Emma expectantly. She found herself taking a step back, uncertain.

"Is she dangerous?" Emma asked. Her voice, for once, didn't betray the growing horror she felt inside.

"She would kill you if she could, I'm sure," the third guard said. "Lucky for you, she can't. All of her magic is gone." He rapped against the door. "This dungeon is enchanted. It prevents the use of magic. As long as you don't get close, she can't hurt you."

"The thing is," Merek said, leaning in conspiratorially, "it's never been tested before. It might not even work. We'll know soon enough, I guess, once the fairy dust wears off. Assuming you come back alive." He placed the tray back in her hands. "Best of luck to you."

And with that, Emma found herself being pushed forward and into the dungeons. While the torches lining the walls were meant to bring a sense of comfort to the otherwise dark room, they made the shadows dancing along the walls all the more terrifying. "Hello?" she called out, her voice echoing about the room. She paused, hoping to hear a reply, but the only sounds she heard were her footsteps fading away into the blackness.

She cleared her throat and tried again. "I have food for you, if you're hungry." She really wasn't expecting a reply, so she nearly dropped the tray in surprise when a quiet voice answered her.

"King Geoffrey has decided to feed me? How exceedingly generous of him."

Emma spun around, finding herself not even two feet from the other woman. She nearly fell over in her haste to get further away. The prisoner leaned against the cell bars, her fingers curling around the rusting iron. "You know," she began, her tone laced with contempt, "I was beginning to think that I wouldn't get any visitors. And yet here you are, to give me food most certainly laced with poison." She pulled away from the bars, melding into the shadows. "I had assumed King Geoffrey would at least go for a public execution, but I guess I was mistaken."

Before she had a chance to think about the consequences, Emma found herself arguing with the woman. "There's no way it could be poisoned. I gave the guards the same food as you."

"Unless, of course, you waited until after they ate to poison it."

"And why would I do that?" Emma took a breath, hoping to calm herself. She had no reason to defend her honor to a criminal. "Though it's not like you don't deserve it. You tried to kill the king." The woman stepped closer into the light, and Emma, deciding that she was in no real danger, studied her wearily. Nathan had said she barely put up a fight, but the bruising on her face suggested otherwise. Emma couldn't tell if it was the torchlight accentuating the dark coloring of the wounds, but some of them looked incredibly painful.

The woman looked away, but Emma could see the slightest furrow of her brow. Something was off. "You did try to kill him, didn't you?" she pressed, suddenly uncertain.

"It wasn't my intention," the woman whispered. The malice of her tone was gone, replaced with what sounded like simple honesty.

"Then what were you trying to do?"

A pounding on the dungeon door caused both women to jump. The tray wasn't so lucky this time; it fell the to the floor with a loud clatter, the food rolling towards the occupied cell. By the time Emma had gathered her wits about her, the woman had once again disappeared into the darkness. Disappointment rushed through her as she realized she wouldn't be getting any answers. It would have to wait until tomorrow. She would make sure Rose switched with her again.

Emma scrambled to pick up the food and leave the dungeon. Nathan would be expecting her by now. It wasn't until she was out in the natural light that she realized something was different; her tray was too light. Emma looked down, confused.

The apple was missing. The woman would have something to eat, after all.


	2. Chapter 2

Emma barely slept that night. Whenever she shut her eyes, she was back in the dungeon, watching as the torches cast flickering shadows across the woman's body. The darkness limited her to glimpses of exaggerated facial features; a sharp nose and high cheekbones, an ominous face. If only she could have seen her clearly, then perhaps she would know how to feel.

The guards had been serious when they warned her about the woman. So why wasn't she terrified? Had the woman lived up to their words of caution? Emma worried her lower lip, finding herself unsure. The prisoner hadn't done anything to her, but in the long run, that meant absolutely nothing; as far as the kingdom was concerned, she had attempted to kill the reigning monarch. A crime befitting of death.

The silken smoothness of the woman's voice echoed in her mind. _It wasn't my intention_. Emma rolled onto her side, letting out a huff of frustration. If the woman hadn't been trying to kill the king, then what had she been doing?

The rain had stopped, but the chill of autumn lingered. Emma had intentionally worn her warmest clothing, but the cold managed to pass through even the thickest of her furs. Every once in a while, she was able to see her breath upon the frigid air. She hastened her step. It wasn't just the unpleasant weather that motivated her brisk pace; she needed to be the one to bring the food to the dungeons, and that meant getting there before Rose.

By the time she reached the castle, her cheeks were a bright pink and her ears were burning. She pulled her gloves off and placed a hand over each ear, wincing as her warm palm met the top of her ear. The pain swelled for a moment before fading to a sting.

Emma wandered farther into the kitchen, looking for Rose. She spotted Nathan in his customary spot by the brick ovens, but didn't see the older woman anywhere. Her pulse quickened and she found herself rushing to Nathan.

"Where's Rose?" she asked, careful to keep her voice calm lest it betray her nerves.

Nathan gave her a once over before he turned back to the fire. "You're early." He grabbed a cloth and reached into the oven. His voice was muffled, and Emma leaned in closer to hear him. "She's not here yet."

Emma felt the corners of her lips lift into a smile, but when Nathan turned around she tried her best to remain passive. She waited for Nathan to tell her what to do, but when he remained focused on the work in front of him, she hazarded a question. "What am I doing today?"

"Dungeons again, I think," came his gruff reply. When Emma didn't respond, he looked up. "I know it's not what you want, but it's only for today. Tomorrow everything will be back to normal."

She frowned. "What do you mean, back to normal?"

"There's going to be an execution tomorrow."

Emma felt sick to her stomach.

The guards didn't look up as Emma rushed into the room, nor did they thank her for the food. The only acknowledgement of her presence came when they grabbed their bread and meat. Emma hesitated for only a moment before she slid past the guard and entered the dungeon.

"I brought you food," Emma said as she strode to the occupied cell. She couldn't see the woman, but she knew she was being watched. She fidgeted, shuffling the plate from one hand to the other. "I know you're there, and I know you're hungry."

She heard a soft sigh and watched as the prisoner appeared from the shadows. The woman met her eyes, a look of defiance reflected in her hungry eyes. Emma found herself taking an involuntary step forward, watching in fascination as the woman's hand reached toward her, and for the briefest of moments, she thought the prisoner was trying to touch her. But the woman only snatched the bread off the plate.

"You never told me your name," Emma said, watching as the woman pulled a bite-sized piece of bread from the hardened loaf.

The woman paused, letting the piece drop to the ground. Emma felt a flash of fear as hard eyes studied her. "You don't know?" A sinister grin spread across the prisoner's face. "Well, my dear, I'm the Evil Queen."

"But that's a title, not a name."

The smile faded away, replaced by a carefully neutral expression. "My name is Regina."

"So why are you called the Evil Queen?"

Regina pondered her question, her head tilted to the side. After a while, she asked, "Does it matter?"

"It does if you didn't earn the title." The look Regina gave her sent a chill up her spine, but the subsequent silence only spurred Emma on. "What did you do?"

Regina's hands fell to her sides, and in the dim firelight Emma could just barely make out the clenched fists. The hardened crust of bread crackled under the force of her fingers. "You don't want to know." Flakes of sourdough fell to the ground.

"If you won't tell me what you've done in the past, then why should I trust you now?"

Regina's fists uncurled and the bread dropped to the floor, forgotten. The golden crust turned black as the bread absorbed the grimy wetness. "Why would you ever need to trust me?"

"If I can't trust you, then how can I believe that you weren't trying to kill the king?" Emma looked imploringly at Regina, but the woman remained stoic. Emma ground her heel into the damp dirt, trying to keep the frustration out of her voice. "Why were you in the treasury? Regina, please, I have to know. I can't help you if you don't tell me."

Regina let out a scoff. "And why would I need your help?"

Emma drew a shaky breath. "Your execution is tomorrow." She expected some sort of reaction from the prisoner, but the woman didn't even blink. "You already knew that, didn't you?" Regina was silent, and Emma took it as confirmation that yes, she did. "If you tell me, then I can find a way to talk to the king about it. Maybe if he knew the real reason you were in the treasury, he wouldn't hurt you."

"A servant, talking to the king? Don't make me laugh." Emma flushed in embarrassment. She opened her mouth to defend herself, but Regina interrupted her. "King Geoffrey is well aware of what I have done in the past. He will kill me no matter what you do."

"That doesn't seem fair," Emma argued. "There has to be a way." Something within her forced her to step toward the woman, moving as close as the cell would allow. "Nobody gives up that easily."

"I wasn't planning on it." A slow smirk spread across Regina's face, and for the first time Emma understood what the guards had warned her about. She tried to step back, but found her feet were stuck to the ground. Regina's hand shot out, toward Emma's chest.

Emma tried to scream as the hand went through her skin and bones, but all that came out was a terrified squeak. Something constricted around her heart, and she felt her entire body lurch forward. She could barely breathe; darkness encroached on her vision. She felt a firm tug, and something ripped inside of her.

Regina's hand withdrew from her chest. She clutched something red and pulsing in her palm. It was then that the emptiness hit Emma, and she doubled over in pain. "What did you do?" Emma gasped, blinking furiously as tears threatened to fall. "Is that my heart?" Whatever held her in place dissipated, and Emma collapsed to the ground. "How is this possible? How am I not dead?"

"Magic, dear."


End file.
